


Changeling Child

by sunkelles



Series: Femslash February 2015 [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe- Fantasy, Elves, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Immortality isn't fun, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:33:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3270113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Some people say this is the opening to the Fey’s court,” Leo says with a twinkle in his eyes, “and some say it’s a gate to the underworld.”<br/>Piper whispers to Annabeth, “And some people say that Leo’s full of shit.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changeling Child

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote the vast majority of this last February and didn't end up finishing it in time. I picked it back up and decided to publish it because I missed posting pjo fic and I felt that the world needed a bit more pipabeth. I understand that the ending is rushed, but I didn't feel like putting all that much more time into it. I hope it isn't too bad. 
> 
> FEMSLASH FEBRUARY BEGINS!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Also, I don't own Arafel's Lament by Heather Alexander.

_The sorrow of the Elves is that all they love must die_

_Time withers all about them, yet the Elves it passes by_

 

_-Arafel's Lament,_ Heather Alexander

* * *

 

 

“You can’t catch me!” Piper shouts. The green grass is soft beneath her toes as she runs from Leo. Her laughter rings loud and musical as he finally catches her and they tumble into the grass.

“I got you,” he says with a grin. There’s grass caught within his ebony curls and Piper laughs again even louder. She grabs his hand and drags him towards the nearest tree.

Leo looks to it and then to her.

“I bet I can climb to the top faster,” he challenges. The tree is tall and its thick branches form the perfect net for climbing.

“You’re on,” Piper says, and then they both set off. Piper grabs her first hand hold, a wide bottom branch and pulls herself up. It puts a small tear in the bottom of her dress, but she doesn’t care. She keeps pulling herself higher and higher into the tree until she’s as near the top as she feels comfortable climbing. She is at least ten feet higher than Leo.

“I win!” she shouts with triumph.

“Wait!” he yells in anger, “how did you get so high so fast?!”

Piper smirks at him, “I’m just that good.” Leo sighs loudly and continues to climb until he is sitting on the same branch as Piper. The world looks different from this high up, much higher up than Piper has ever gone before. The fields become a carpet of greens and yellows and the much smaller surrounding trees look like cute little dots. The air smells fresh and clean.

“I wonder if this is what it’s like to be a bird,” Piper thinks aloud. Leo sends her a funny look but then shrugs.

“I guess we’ll never know,” he says. The people are even smaller than the trees, but Piper can still make out their hair colors. There is someone with golden blonde hair. Piper has never seen someone in their village with that shade before.

“Is there someone new?” Piper asks aloud.

“What do you mean?” Leo asks. But Piper points her out.

Leo responds, “I guess so. Do you think we should go down and meet them?”

“Yeah,” and then Piper starts quickly descending from her perch.

“I’ll race you!” she shouts, and she sets off towards the bottom.

“That’s no fair!” he says, trying to take off afterwards.

“You got a head start,” he grumbles, but Piper is already well ahead of him.

 

* * *

 

Piper runs across the grass, towards the girl with the golden hair and the light grey dress.

“Hello,” she says, barely able to stop herself from plowing into the girl.

“Who’re you?” she finishes.

The girl looks intrigued and says, “My name is Annabeth. I moved in with my grandmother yesterday.”

“I’m Piper,” she says, “I’ve lived here all my life.” A moment later, Leo runs up. He’s panting and obviously out of breath.

Piper makes a wide, all-encompassing hand gesture.

“And this is Leo,” she says. Leo glares while he pants.

After regaining his breath he says, “I can’t believe that you made me run all that way.”

“Well,” Piper retorts, “I didn’t actually  _make_ you.” Annabeth laughs a little and then Piper grins.

“Would you like if we showed you around?” Piper asks, because she would really like to be able to show Annabeth around the town. Annabeth smiles a little.

“Alright,” she says. Piper takes Annabeth’s hand in hers.

“Fine,” Leo says, looking between the two of them, “But we’re going to show her the cave first.”

* * *

 

 

The trees that grow high above them provide a nice shady cover as they walk to the cave. Leo tells long winded tales of the creatures that haunt the woods while Annabeth rolls her eyes. Leo’s still prattling on about the wolfman of the wood when they finally arrive at the cave. The rocks are a deep shade of brown. The opening is jagged and dark looking, like the mouth of a large monster.

“Some people say this is the opening to the Fey’s court,” Leo says with a twinkle in his eyes, “and some say it’s a gate to the underworld.”

Piper whispers to Annabeth, “And some people say that Leo’s full of shit.”

“I heard that!” Leo says, turning back around with a glare. But Annabeth’s giggling like a loon and it makes Piper grin as wide as her face accommodates.

Leo looks back at them with a wild look in his eyes, “Are you ready to step into the mouth of the beast?”

“Yes,” Annabeth says, and then they follow him into the cavern. The rocks are not soft beneath Piper’s feet, and after stepping on the first bit, she wishes that she would have worn shoes. The cave walls are varying shades of browns and greys and reddish hues. Annabeth seems enthralled. The light hits the small reserves of crystals in just the right way to make them shine and Annabeth just grins at them. They continue to walk deeper and deeper and eventually the natural sunlight darkens to where they can barely see in front of them. All Piper can see is what appears to be a woman with a long, black braid. She must be seeing things.

“We need to head back,” Piper says.

“Piper,” Leo says, “we always go deeper than this.”

“Yes,” she says, “but we also bring torches. We don’t have a torch right now. I don’t fancy dying in these caves.”

“We need to leave,” she says, pouring a lot of emotion into her voice.

“Fine,” Leo says, and he starts back through the cave. Piper is confused; Leo never yields that quickly. But she doesn’t question it.

“Sometime I’d like to come back,” Annabeth says to her, “you know, when we have torches.”

“I’ll bring you back,” Piper promises, “with torches. Both you and torches.” The three make their way back out of the cave in a sort of interested silence.

* * *

 

 

The sun is starting to go down and the warm colors of sunset fill the sky. The dim light of evening casts itself on Annabeth’s face and her grey eyes look almost silver. They walk through the trees and by the fields of still green wheat before arriving in the village square. Annabeth looks to the house Piper presumes is her grandmother’s.

“I should probably head back,” she says, “I need to let them know that I’m okay.”

“Alright,” Piper says, though she’s not ready for this day to end, “Will you come play with us tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Annabeth says, “You two are very  _interesting.”_

“We try,” Piper says. Annabeth turns away from her and walks into the cottage.

“Come on, Piper,” Leo says, pulling on her sleeve, “we could get to Mr D’s grape orchards and back before dark.”

Piper smiles, “Alright.” Her eyes must have been twinkling, because before she could suggest a race, Leo buts in, “No races!”

“Damn it,” Piper says, but there is no real heat to the words.  
“Let’s just talk,” he suggests.

“Alright, alright,” she says. Then the two walk and talk on their way to steal grapes.

* * *

 

 

Piper opens up the door to her house thirty minutes after dark. Then she proceeds to plop down into her bed.

“Where have you been?” her father asks from his spot in her doorway.

“The caves, the forest, Mr D’s orchards,” she says, because Piper is always honest.

Her father sighs and asks, “How many times have I asked you not to go to his orchards?”

“A lot,” she responds, “But you know that he’ll never catch us. He’s slow and Leo and I are fast.”  He puts a hand to his forehead.

His tone is low and sincere when he says, “I worry about you, Piper.”

Piper sits up in her bed and looks at him.

“I’m sorry,” she says, though she’s not apologizing for doing the things that she does. She’s just sorry that he worries about her. He sits down at the foot of her bed. Neither says anything for a moment and Piper lies her head in his lap.

 “Tell me a story,” she says. Her father sighs, but he sends her a fond smile.

“Once there was a young prince,” he says, “And he loved a lady, young and fair.”

“This is the story that you always tell,” she replies.

“That’s because it’s a good story,” her father replies.

“Tell me a different story,” she clarifies. A look passes over her father’s face, as if he’s making a difficult decision. But a moment later, he smiles and begins to speak.

“There was once a man in a far-away land,” he says wistfully, “a man who wanted a child.” Piper smiles. This is certainly a different story.

“He had no wife and no siblings,” her father replies, looking at the ceiling, “so he could have no children.” He pauses a moment.

“He traveled to the Unseelie Court to speak to the queen of all the elves and fairies and ask her for a child,” her father says, his voice suddenly a bit strained.

He continues, “And she gave him a child, a beautiful, elven daughter. She was the light of his life, but with the elves and the fairies there is always a price.”

“What was the price?” she asks, suddenly very confused.

“I don’t know,” and for a moment his words sound personal.

He amends it to, “That part of the story was lost to time.” Piper raises an eyebrow, but asks no more questions. Her father kisses the top of her head. Then Piper moves her head out of his lap and he exits the room. Piper is left to the darkness and her thoughts.

* * *

 

 

Piper, Leo and Annabeth quickly become a team of sorts, in play, in adventure and in stories. It doesn’t take long for Piper and Leo to include her in their newest prank idea.

* * *

 

 

This prank includes the three of them sitting ten feet above the ground in a tree with a bag of flour.

Annabeth raises an eyebrow; Piper doesn’t understand why she waited until they were already up in the tree with the bag of flour to do this.

“Are you guys sure this is a good idea?” she asks.

“Of course,” Leo says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “all my ideas are good.”

Annabeth turns to Piper because Piper tends to be the more trustworthy of the two.

“I think it’ll be funny,” Piper says, “we just have to make sure that whoever we hit won’t kill us.”

“Not dying would be good,” Annabeth says, and Piper isn’t positive that she’s joking. An unsuspecting old man passes under the tree, and then Leo drops the contents of the bag. The man’s scream in response is shrill, and all of their laughter blends together as they jump down from the tree and run far, far away from his cursing.

* * *

 

 

They’re laughing and gallivanting around in the woods when her father finds them. His look is stern and his dark eyes look as though they are staring into Piper’s soul. She and Leo have never been caught before, so this is a new experience, one that she is not enjoying.

His voice has a steely edge as he says, “Did you drop flour all over Mr. O’Reily?” Annabeth looks between the two of them and is obviously wondering how she let herself be dragged into this.

“No, of course not,” Leo says. It’s a fairly good lie. Piper hopes that it will cover for them.

“Piper,” he asks, “did you three drop flour on Mr. O’Reily?”

Piper is thinking of the lie and is perfectly ready to say it, but instead she says, “Yes.” She glances to Leo, who looks like he wants to tear her eyes out. Her father looks disappointed, but also a little bit scared.

“Piper,” her father says, “we’re going home.” Piper glances between her father and her angry friend.

“But dad-“

“We are leaving,” he says firmly. Piper bites her lip, but does not object.

* * *

 

 

They are inside the house before Piper’s father dares speak.

Piper is grounded for two weeks with extra chores. But that is not what worries her, not really. It seems that she is incapable of lying.  _That_ is what worries her. She does not know what to make of it. But as she does not know what it means, she soon forgets to worry about it. It becomes a fact of life: the sun rises and sets, after winter comes spring, and Piper cannot lie. There are some things that just are; they exist simply because they exist. 

* * *

 

 

Leo’s mother passes soon after, and while Piper and Annabeth both try to comfort him, it does no good. Leo wants no comfort. He starts working as an apprentice to the local blacksmith and buries himself into his work instead.

* * *

 

 

“Why- why would he do that!” Piper demands, “I want to help, I want to make him feel better! Why won’t he let me?”

“Some people bury themselves in work to escape their problems,” her father says, “like you climb trees or take trips to the caves.”

“He used to do that to escape his problems to,” she says, and she knows that it sounds whiny, but she doesn’t care. It’s a valid point.

“You’ve never had this sort of problem,” he says, the phrase sounds somehow accusatory and apologetic simultaneously.

“How do you deal with your problems?” she asks, just to be contrary, because in many ways she is still a petulant child.

Her father sends her a sad, sad smile and then looks up at the ceiling.

“I ignore them,” he says, “and hope that they go away.”

* * *

 

 

As Leo keeps himself busy, Piper and Annabeth spend more time together, just the two of them. Her feelings are different with Annabeth than they ever were with Leo. With Annabeth, she felt sparks flash through her chest and sometimes her tongue tied itself in knots. But this did not always stop her from spending time with the other girl. In some ways, this foreign feeling in her belly just draws them closer.

* * *

 

 

Sometimes they return to the caves. Sometimes they tree climb. Sometimes they stargaze, and sometimes they just talk as they walk through the forest.

* * *

 

 

This time, Piper’s tongue gets away from her. She does not understand what it is about Annabeth that makes her want to say whatever comes to mind, but she suspects it might be the same thing that makes her want to kiss her silly or make her laugh for the rest of her life.

“What was it like?” Piper asks, “Olympus, I mean.” Piper didn’t intend to let the words come out, but she’d been so curious for so long.

“It was,” Annabeth says, but then she pauses a moment as she grasps for the right word.

“Different,” she finally decides. Piper looks at her for another moment, prompting the other girl to explain further.

“There were more people, for starters,” Annabeth says, “it was a castle; that’s to be expected.” She is pausing a moment to collect her thoughts, which is something that she is prone to doing. Piper takes a deep breath, and she is greeted by the fresh smell of grass and freshly blossomed flowers.

“The castle itself was amazing,” Annabeth says, and her eyes are glistening with a sort of wonder Piper wishes she could see more often.

“I wish that I could build something like it,” she says ruefully. But they both know that is a fruitless dream. Annabeth is now both a woman and a peasant, and either one would have prevented her from being a great architect. Together, they prevent her from being just about anything.

“Why did you come here?” Piper asks, because by now it’s common knowledge that she says stupid, stupid shit around Annabeth.

“I came here to move in with my grandmother,” she says smoothly. It’s well-rehearsed, because that’s the story that she has been telling since her arrival. But Piper knows that isn’t true. Annabeth sounds as though she loved the city too much to ever leave it. She sends Annabeth a hard glare, one that Annabeth can’t withstand.

“My stepmother kicked me out,” Annabeth says softly. She does not meet Piper’s eyes, instead choosing to focus on the grove of trees ahead of them.

“My father died, and my stepmother made me leave,” Annabeth continues, her voice growing stronger with rage, “She said that she didn’t want any more mouths to feed. My father asked her specifically to look after me when she died, and how did she repay him? She kicked me out, threw me out with the rubbish!” Annabeth throws her hand down in an angered motion, and then she checks herself. There are tears in her eyes, Piper can see, and she regrets having pushed so hard. She truly does. Piper is only glad that she decided to do so this far out in the woods. There is a sort of privacy under the open sky that cannot be attained in the village.

“I’m not worthless,” Annabeth says softly.

Piper is not sure whether or not she should respond, so she does.

“You aren’t worthless,” she says, even more softly than Annabeth’s words before her. She is nervous, even though they are in private. Even though these words are the truest she’s ever spoken.

“You’re wonderful,” Piper continues, “the most wonderful person that I’ve ever known.” Annabeth finally wipes the tears from her eyes and looks at Piper with a sort of hope that makes her heart melt.

“Do you mean it?” Annabeth asks, though her words are slightly harsh, a bit demanding. Annabeth needs to know that Piper’s words are true.

“I cannot lie,” Piper says with a bit of a smirk. Annabeth looks at her sternly for a moment, and then giggles. The giggles shift to a shy smile which shifts to a kiss. The kiss is passionate from both sides. Pent up feelings and adrenaline press together as their bodies and lips do and soon they are kissing against the trunk of a large, oak tree. And the kissing and touching and whispered sweet nothings erect a promise in the wood. It is a promise not to go back to the way that things were.

* * *

 

 

There is an intimacy in companionship as well as in sex. Piper is luck to have both in Annabeth. But there is something about sex that can complicate things. Once had, things cannot return to exactly the way that they were. Luckily, Piper and Annabeth prefer things this way.

* * *

 

 

Leo spends more and more time at his forge, and Piper tries to spend time with it, but she finds that it is futile. He has lost his will to do anything but toy with the metal. She mourns their friendship as if he were dead.

* * *

 

 

The world marches on, seasons pass, and Annabeth’s grandmother dies before Piper sees the dark woman again. She and Annabeth are walking through the woods when they encounter her. She leans against a tall oak tree as though she has been expecting them all along. Piper feels uncomfortable, but they continue to walk.

The woman looks directly at her and says nothing but, “Piper.”  Then, the woman disappears in a flash, and Piper is left feeling terribly afraid.

* * *

 

 

Life, as always, continues. Piper forgets. It seems that everyone around her ages but Piper herself.

“It’s just my luck,” Annabeth whispers in her ear, “that my lover is so youthful. The gods must have blessed me.” Piper laughs, as always, and plants a kiss on Annabeth’s lips.

* * *

 

 

Time marches on, the two have sex, others die, and eventually, the black-haired woman finds her again.

* * *

 

 

She and Annabeth are walking through the woods that day, as usual. Piper catches a glance of her, a black-haired woman that Piper is certain she’s seen before. She seems so familiar, a nearly forgotten face in the back of her memories. Annabeth stiffens beside her as the woman strides up to them regally, the trees standing to her sides like body guards.

“Hello, Piper,” she says, her voice surprisingly low.

“Who are you?” Piper demands, though there are million questions that she means to ask.

“My name is Reyna,” she says, “and I have come to implore you to come with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Piper asks swiftly, trying to gauge exactly who this woman who’s been following her is.

“You are an elf,” Reyna says.

Piper looks at her in disbelief.

“That’s ridiculous,” she says, but she feels something deep within her, something that feels like it might be the truth.

“I can prove it,” the woman tells her slowly.

Piper thinks about it for a moment before she says, “Alright, go for it.”

“You cannot lie,” she says, “you can control people with your voice, and you do not age.” The words steal the breath right out of Piper’s lungs. Every single syllable is accurate.

“How do you know these things about me,” Piper demands, but she knows the answer.

“I’m an elf too,” the woman says, “an elf exiled from the court. I came to warn you.”

“Of what?” Piper asks, though the rational part of her mind tells her this is all crazy. Elves and fairies are bound to be real, but that doesn’t mean that she is one.

“If you don’t go to court now,” she says, “they will never allow you join. And you’ll spend eternity wandering the earth.”

“How do you know?” Piper asks, though she knows it’s a stupid question.

“Because they would not accept me,” Reyna says. She looks Piper straight in the eyes.

“Do not make my mistakes,” she implores.

“If I travel to the court,” Piper says, “I will not be able to return, will I?”

The woman waits a moment before responding, “No. You will not.”

“Then why are you coming to escort me there?” Piper asks, “why would they send an exile.” The woman stiffens, and Piper wishes that she had learned more tact earlier in her life. Being friends with Leo and her inability to lie have not made her tactful.

Her voice is strained and hard as she says, “I did it as a favor for the queen.” Piper knows better than to ask the woman’s connection to the queen. She has already stepped on enough toes.

So she changes the subject.

“Elves aren’t really immortal, are they?” Piper asks, “because that would be ridiculous.” This topic has to be less of a field of thorn bushes than their last one.

 “They can be, yes,” Reyna says.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Piper says.

“I have been alive three hundred years,” Reyna says, “And some elves have lived thousands of years. They are capable of immortality.”

“Capable of immortality?” Piper asks, “What does that mean? Wouldn’t something either be immortal or mortal?”

“Elves cannot be killed,” Reyna says, looking into the distance with a wistful look on her face, “And they can live forever, but if an elf gives up on life, that is the end. Elves die when they lose the will to live.”

“Who would choose to die when they can live forever?” Piper asks, as though it’s the silliest idea that she’s ever heard. Reyna looks at her wistfully and chuckles, but it’s more bitter than it is cheerful.

“Any sane person,” Reyna says softly.

“Then why haven’t you given up yet?” Piper demands. She knows that it’s not truly her place, but she asks it anyway. She must know.

“I guess I’ve just been hoping to find some more good in this world,” she says.

She pauses before adding with hopeful fervor, “It has to be there somewhere.” There’s a moment of silence between them. Piper does not know how to respond to the woman’s comments, which are both cynical and idealist at the same time.

“I won’t be joining the court,” she says softly, and she knows that this is choice that she has always been meant to make. She would have to leave Annabeth, and never return to her. Annabeth would die and Piper would live on, and this day would be their last together. Piper cannot bear that thought.

Reyna sighs ruefully.

“I knew that’s what you would say,” Reyna says, “but I had to give you the chance. It might have eased your pain.” Piper turns her head and looks away from the cave. When she looks back again, Reyna is gone. Piper smiles, perhaps Leo was right. Perhaps that cave was the entrance to the Fey’s court.

* * *

 

 

The immortality of youth is lost when she realizes that she has it. She is immortal, and Annabeth is not. Their time will be limited.

This scares Piper more than anything else. 

* * *

 

 

Days of loving embraces and kisses and making love between the sheets turn to months which turn to years, and suddenly, Annabeth’s not so young anymore and her father’s on his deathbed. He’s not even coherent as the fever finally consumes him, and Piper does not know whether that makes everything easier or harder. They move away, far far away from the town they’ve led most of their lives in, because Piper isn’t aging and eventually, someone will notice. Both of their fathers are dead, so it isn’t like either of them has all that much of a reason to stick around.

* * *

 

 

There are streaks of grey in her hair and her laughter lines have turned to wrinkles. Piper can feel the sands of time slipping through her fingers. Maybe it’s because she knows that she’ll continue to live that she feels Annabeth’s slipping time so fiercely, or maybe it’s just because she loves her so much.

* * *

 

 

Annabeth grabs her hand. Her hair isn’t golden anymore. It’s a silvery white and her face is made of wrinkles and liver spots, but Piper still thinks that she’s beautiful. She’s Annabeth, and even on her deathbed she has to be the most beautiful person in the world.

* * *

 

 

Her corpse is cold and Piper cries bitter, ugly tears. Piper finally lets go of Annabeth's limp hand after what feels like hours, and she forces herself to leave their tiny cottage. There's nothing left for her there anymore. 

* * *

 

 

She walks through the woods, aimlessly for what seems like forever before she finds Reyna. The other elf needs only to look at Piper to realize what has happened to Annabeth.

“Was it worth it?” Reyna asks softly, though not tactfully, “Growing attached, falling in love, only to lose her?”

“Yes,” Piper says with all honesty, “yes it was.”

The wind blows through the tress much as it always has. The world has not stopped turning for them. It was wonderful; there love was worthy of ballads, and the strongest emotion that Piper had ever felt. But now it is over. Annabeth is dead, and their story brought to a halt. But this chapter of her life will always be worth it, no matter the pain, and Piper will keep on living,

To keep her memory alive.


End file.
